


Morgana Knows

by rocketgirl2



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-17
Updated: 2010-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocketgirl2/pseuds/rocketgirl2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet, of all places, in a hotel hallway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morgana Knows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [batgurl88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/batgurl88/gifts).



> This was written for [](http://batgurl88.livejournal.com/profile)[**batgurl88**](http://batgurl88.livejournal.com/) as part of a gifts challenge at [](http://community.livejournal.com/merlin_land/profile)[**merlin_land**](http://community.livejournal.com/merlin_land/).

  
They meet, of all places, in a hotel hallway.

Actually, _meet_ is a rather watered down term for the encounter.  As it is, Merlin is backing down the hallway with a heavy cart of cleaners in tow, so there’s no way he’s going to know that his next step is going to land right on the edge of a suitcase.  Somehow, he’s spared the indignity of the flying-backward-into-its-owner bit and ends up unharmed except for a slight bit of embarrassment.  He fervently hopes the owner is polite enough to forgive his clumsiness and let him get away with a muttered thank you, but—

“Watch where you’re going.”

“Why don’t you?” retorts Merlin without thinking; it’s a reflex of his to be rude to anyone who’s rude to him, and this guy certainly qualifies.  Besides, it’s not as if he could have been expected to know that there was a suitcase in his path—he was, after all, the one going backwards.

“Excuse me?” says the voice, and as Merlin starts preparing a defense to his boss about how he wasn’t hired for customer relations, he finds himself spun around and standing face to face with Arthur Pendragon.

Merlin’s brain just about shuts down then, because he realizes that every single magazine that has called Arthur Pendragon the sexiest man alive is really not exaggerating.  In fact, the photos hardly do him justice—they capture his face all right, Merlin supposes, and probably his abs (though Merlin has no experience with those), but they miss…something.

 _Maybe the fact that he’s an utter prat?_ Merlin’s brain chimes in.  Merlin mentally shrugs.  It could be he’s just run into Arthur on a bad day, but then again, maybe the fact that he’s still in Most Eligible Bachelor standing despite being on lists of richest _and_ sexiest men has something to say for his personality.

It also could have something to do with the fact that he dates stupid women, but Merlin wouldn’t know much about that because he definitely doesn’t read tabloids when he’s on break.

It’s around this time that Merlin’s ears inform him that he is being _lectured_ by Arthur Pendragon on appropriate behavior for maintenance staff.  And Merlin is aware that Arthur is a paying customer, and that the customer is always right, but he’s also aware of the fact that the man has probably never had to clean up a mess in his life, and can therefore have no idea of what it’s really like.

So Merlin decides he’ll spin another tale for his boss later and presents Arthur with a very well thought-out explanation of how he wasn’t hired for customer service.  Well, customer service with a few added expletives to spice it up a bit.

Once Merlin’s finished, Arthur raises an eyebrow.  “That’s it?” he asks.

“That’s— _what_ ’s it?” replies Merlin, still in a rather agitated state.

“Your defense.  You weren’t hired to lie to patrons and boost their egos, so you’re allowed to run rampant down the hallways with a cart full of chemicals and dirty towels?”

“I’m not running _rampant_ ,” Merlin corrects him, angrily.  “I’m trying to do my job.”

“Which is to maintain the environment of the hotel, if I’m correct.”

Merlin supposes that’s a way of saying it.  “Yes?”

“A relaxing getaway that showcases England’s natural beauty,” quotes Arthur, as if he’s swallowed the promotional brochure.  “You know, if you want your customers to think it’s relaxing, it’s best if you don’t yell at them.”

Merlin bites his lip to stop himself from doing more unrelaxing things to the environment and settles for rearranging the objects on his cart, imagining that he’s smashing them down on Arthur Pendragon’s lovely face.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” says Arthur smugly from behind him.  “If you wanted to help make it a more relaxing environment for me, you could always help by carrying my suitcase into my room.  It might make me less likely to report you to your superiors.”

Merlin doesn’t believe the man, but turns around and grabs Arthur’s suitcase. 

“What the hell do you have in here?” he asks, as Arthur opens the door and leads the way into his suite.

“ _Relaxing_ environment,” says Arthur; Merlin scowls and dumps the suitcase on the floor by the table.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to unpack it for me,” says Arthur, and though Merlin _would_ like to know why it’s so heavy, the urge is not that great.

“I need to get back to my job.”

“Very well,” says Arthur, waving him out of the room; Merlin obliges, shutting the door quite relaxingly behind him.

It’s only once he’s outside that he realizes he’s just been in Arthur Pendragon’s hotel room, and he doesn’t even have a story to tell for it.

Gwen’s going to kill him.

***

“You’ll never guess who I met today,” he says, walking up to Gwen in the hotel restaurant after work.  She raises her eyebrows. 

“Wouldn’t be Arthur Pendragon, would it?”

“How did you know?”

Gwen shrugs and gives him her sweetest smile.  “Morgana came by and asked if he’d arrived yet.  It was far before he actually did, of course, but she said she might come by later to say hello.”

“I always forget that they’re related,” says Merlin, and it’s true; Morgana is gorgeous and rich, certainly, but she’s also grounded in a way that Arthur doesn’t seem to be.

“Technically, they’re not,” offers Gwen.  “She’s only his step-sister, you know.”

“They come from the same household,” grumbles Merlin, “It’s close enough.”  He slumps down across from her and stares at the table.

“So,” says Gwen, “What happened?”

“What?” asks Merlin, who’s still wondering how much of Arthur and Morgana’s genetic makeup can actually be the same and whether it’s enough to count them as related.

“With Arthur!” says Gwen.  “What happened?”

Merlin raises his eyebrows.  “I backed into his suitcase, he lectured me about how I was awful at my job, and I had to carry his things into his room for him.”

Gwen looks like she’s about to say something, but Merlin is spared having to hear it by the arrival of a tall, gorgeous, fashionably-dressed brunette.

“Are we talking about Arthur?”

“Hello, Morgana,” says Gwen with a smile.  “Merlin was just going to tell me about how they met.”

***

“You know,” says Morgana, after every detail of the story has been analyzed about fifty times and they’ve all had far too many cocktails, “I’ve always thought Arthur was repressing something.”

“Kindness?  Empathy?  General human-ness?” asks Merlin, half-jokingly.

“No, silly.”  Morgana swats at him with a straw.  “It’s just, he always has these awful girlfriends.”

“So we’ve noted,” says Gwen, before Merlin can kick her hard enough to dissuade her from the topic.  “They look dreadful."

“They are.”

Morgana holds a pensive silence, and even drunk, she holds enough poise that Merlin and Gwen don’t dare interrupt it.

“It’s almost as if he doesn’t _want_ to like them.”

“Huh?” asks Merlin, thoroughly confused.  Just from seeing pictures of the many girls Arthur has dated, he thinks he would very much want to like them.

“I think he’s having a crisis,” said Morgana.  “That means it’s up to me, as his older sister and guardian, to aid him.”

Merlin’s not drunk enough to think this doesn’t sound like it’s going somewhere bad, and he says so.

Morgana laughs off his objections and Merlin shoots Gwen a worried look.  This is _really_ going somewhere bad.

***

Where it goes—or, where they go, more precisely—is to Arthur’s room.

“Are you sure he’s in?” asks Merlin, in a last-ditch attempt to dissuade Morgana.

“He’s in,” she answers, confidently.  “He’s supposed to be pining over the loss of his girlfriend, Sophia.  It would ruin his broken-hearted boy appeal if he went out partying.”

Merlin doesn’t have a clue what Morgana is talking about, but he _does_ know that Arthur hadn’t looked to be pining earlier in the day.  In fact, Merlin can’t think of anything that he did look except sexy—which really would have nothing to do with situational influences, anyways.

Morgana knocks on the door.  “Arthur,” she calls.  “I’ve brought some friends to see you.”

“Go away,” comes the disgruntled answer from inside.

“Morgana, maybe we ought not—” begins Gwen, but Morgana knocks again.

“Arthur!  We’re here to help you sort through your childhood issues.”

“I don’t have childhood issues,” says Arthur, as he yanks the door open and Morgana nearly falls on top of him.  “And you’re drunk.”

“Only a little,” she says, giving him a kiss on the cheek.  “So are you.”

“Only a little.  Who’s that?” he asks, pointing at Gwen and Merlin, still lurking in the doorway.

“Friends!” says Morgana gleefully. “Come in, you two.  Arthur, this is Gwen—”

“I know you,” says Arthur to Merlin.  “You’re that clumsy cleaning boy.”

Merlin has certainly heard a lot more flattering descriptions in his life, but he doesn’t object, because Arthur Pendragon _recognizes_ him, which is more than he can say for any of his previous celebrity crushes.

“This is Merlin,” said Morgana, putting an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and pulling him closer.  “And this is Gwen.”

“Hello,” says Gwen with her trademark smile, and Arthur smiles back.  Merlin can’t stop himself from thinking that Arthur looks even better when he smiles, and he’s glad that he’s not drunk enough to blurt out everything that he’s thinking.

“I still think you have childhood issues,” says Morgana, who apparently is that drunk.

Arthur frowns, but it’s only a small one.

“I do not,” he says.

“Prove it.”

***

Merlin and Gwen claim Arthur’s bed as Morgana begins a fantastic argument with Arthur about his supposed childhood issues, and Merlin can’t say he minds that he and Gwen are being more or less ignored.\\.  It’s a bit overwhelming to be in Arthur’s suite for the second time in one day, and he’s glad he has Gwen with him this time to stop him doing anything stupid.

At least, that’s the idea; Gwen, however, does not seem to agree.

“You could pull off a dress,” she says, tilting her head to the side and examining Merlin.  “And with a wig and a bit of makeup, I bet I could make you look like a girl.  Morgana’s getting him drunk; we just have to make you look pretty and then you two can have sex!”

“I think he'd notice that I wasn't a girl, Gwen,” says Merlin.  Gwen shrugs. 

“Maybe he wouldn't care.”

“Right, ” says Merlin, just as Morgana whips out her most controversial theory yet.

“I think you're gay.”

Both Gwen and Merlin turn to watch Arthur’s face.

“Gay?  Morgana, I don't—what are you talking about?” splutters Arthur.

“Ha.  Denial.”  Morgana grins.

“Because I'm _not gay._ ”

“Prove it.”

“Morgana, I've been dating girls for ages now, I don't know how else I can convince you that I like them,” says Arthur. 

Morgana shrugs.  “Maybe I'd believe you if one of those girls had been likable.”

“Vivian was a perfectly nice girl!” protests Arthur.

“Which is why she didn't dump you when she realized you weren't that into her?”

“I was into her.  She was nice, and pretty, and—and nice—”

Morgana smirks.  “Told you.”

“For god's sakes, Morgana," says Arthur.  “How am I going to prove to you that I am not gay?”

Morgana gives him her best evil smile.  “Kiss Merlin.”

Gwen breaks down into a silent fit of giggles, and Merlin only _just_ keeps himself from turning violent.  “Gwen!  he hisses.  “This is not funny!  This is bad.”  
“You get to kiss Arthur!” she practically squeals, if such a thing is possible while whispering.  “How is that _bad_?”

Merlin has to admit, when she says it that way, it does sound like the beginning of quite a few of his fantasies.  But the thing about fantasies is that they don't have consequences—and this is definitely going to.

“How is that proving _anything_?” demands Arthur.  “Besides, I hardly think it's fair of you to volunteer him—”

“Oh, he won't mind,” chips in Gwen.  Merlin's death glare is, admittedly, not as great as Morgana's, but he'd really hoped it would tip Gwen off to the fact that he was _not_ cool with this.

“There you go,” says Morgana smugly.  “If you do that, and tell me you don’t like it— _without_ lying—”

“Oh, bloody hell,” mutters Arthur.  “I can’t believe I’m actually listening to this.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow.  “If you’re not comfortable with the situation, there are plenty of people you can hire that you’d never have to see again.”

Arthur glares at her.  “How kind of you.  However, that’s not going to matter because I’m _not_ gay.”

He walks over to the bed and glares at Merlin, who is trying very hard to magic himself out of existence.  Judging way everyone is looking at him, he’s still very much there.

“Right,” says Arthur, as if kissing Merlin is the most confusing thing he’s ever contemplated, and Merlin thinks that now would probably be a bad time to explain how kissing guys isn’t much different than kissing girls.  Then again, Arthur looks a bit scared, so it might be a good idea, except then Arthur’s mouth is against his, and Merlin supposes that to make it a fair test, he really ought to kiss back.  Suddenly, there’s tongue involved and Merlin will forever swear that wasn’t his fault, but it really doesn’t matter much. 

“Ha,” says Morgana in the background.  “I _told_ you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit is always appreciated!


End file.
